Revenge
by Michael Alan
Summary: A serial killer Nash arrested several years earlier escapes from a hospital where he had just undergone surgery to seek revenge on those responsible for sending him to prison, and Nash is on that list.


Introduction ****

Nash Bridges

__

"Revenge"

**Teaser**

Nash Bridges guided his '71 Hemi Cuda through the streets of San Francisco. Joe Dominguez sat in the passenger seat, his head back against the headrest and one arm resting on the door. "Man, I can't believe how bad that movie was last night. It was terrible." 

"It was your pick, bubba." 

"I bet it was written by the producer's three-year-old or something. You now, it should be a federal crime to make movies that bad. I mean, I've seen better acting, better directing, better everything in a commercial for hemorrhoid ointment." 

Nash laughed. 

"God, what a nightmare." 

"Must have been nice to get back home and visit with the mother-in-law." 

Joe rubbed his eyes as if they hurt. "Oh, _God_, what a nightmare!" 

Nash laughed. 

"I'm just getting into bed when she suddenly gets this craving for Lussekatter." 

Nash looked at him with a questioning look on his face. "Lussekatter? What the hell is that?" 

"It's these spicy buns that the Swedes usually make for St. Lucia Day. It's sort of like bread dough with saffron and raisins. You know how hard it is to find ingredients for Swedish food at the time of night she seems to lurk at?" 

Nash tossed a hand up in defeat. "Not a clue." 

"Well, the answer is not easy. I was driving all over looking for the stuff, then she kept me up half the night clambering around in the kitchen. I swear, it sounded like a grizzly bear was knocking the pots and pans around. Fortunately, Inger was out cold the entire time, so she couldn't hear the inventive words I was calling her mother." 

Nash just laughed. Joe's frustrations on the homefront always amused him. "You ready for the big game tomorrow night?" 

"Oh, yes, I am. Been practicing all week. You know, in the new place, there's plenty of room to swing a baseball bat without knocking anything over. Just wish I could get Ula to try to catch the bat with her teeth when I swing." 

"Ooh," Nash said, laughing. "That's cold, man." His cell-phone began ringing. He drew it from inside his coat and answered. "Nash. Yeah, we're about fifteen minutes away." He hung up. "That was Harvey. Got a 187 at SF Memorial." 

Joe set the light on the dash and turned on the siren. "What a way to start a Monday."

They exited the elevator on the sixth floor and walked down the hall toward the Recovery Ward. Harvey Leek was approaching with a spiral notepad in one hand. Antwon Babcock was talking with a man who looked like a doctor. "So much for a fun Monday, hu, boss?" Harv said. 

They walked with him down the hall. "What do we got, Harv?" Nash asked. 

"It seems there was an inmate from San Quentin in for an appendectomy the other day," Harvey explained. He went over his notes. "He was scheduled to be discharged late this afternoon. About twenty minutes ago, the guard posted outside was found in the room, dead, and a window was broken. Guy was gone." 

Antwon finished his questioning and walked over as Joe asked, "We got a name?" 

"You won't like it, boss," Harvey said. "Richard Murphy." 

Nash stopped and looked at him. "Richard Murphy?" 

"Yeah." 

Antwon asked, "You know whom?" 

"I put him in San Quentin." 

They stepped into the room. The guard's body was on the floor, covered. Nash knelt and pulled the sheet back, examining him. "Throat was cut." 

Joe stepped over to the shattered remains of the window. "Nash, look at this." 

He walked over. "What?" 

Joe pointed down. "The glass is on the floor." 

Antwon looked on. "Yeah?" 

Nash nodded. "Well, if you busted out a window, wouldn't most of the glass fall outside? Harv. Check and see if Murphy had any outside acquaintances that he kept in touch with regularly: friends, family, old Army buddies, dentist, garbage man; anybody." 

"I'm on it," Harvey said, and left the room. 

Antwon seemed confused. "Wait a minute. You think someone busted in and helped him escape?" 

"I don't know," Nash said, heading for the door. "But I'm not ruling anything out this soon involving Richard Murphy. Come on."

****

ACT 1 

Having finished talking with the surgeon who had performed the operation, Nash and Antwon were riding back up in the elevator. "He killed five people before we caught him," Nash said. "This guy was vicious. He'd tie his victims' hands behind their backs, torture them a bit by making small cuts in their chest before finally killing them. They didn't die quickly." 

"Random killings?" 

Nash nodded. "We never uncovered a link between the victims. Only thing that was the same each time was the way he'd tie them up and torture them. But each one was killed differently. One was electrocuted in a bathtub, one was strangled, another was stabbed in the heart." 

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out into the hall and walked back toward the crime scene. "Four months after the first killing, we finally caught up with him. Cornered him in a hotel room and had a shootout. He took out five good cops before we nailed him." 

"You know, I think I remember that. I seem to remember hearing about that on the news." 

"Sick bastard like that kills five cops, you're bound to hear about it." 

Joe stepped out of the room. "Almost done, Nash. Forensics is picking up some possible evidence." 

"Okay. Antwon, you and Harvey stay here until things are wrapped up. Joe, you're with me." 

"Yes, Bwana." 

Nash looked back at him as they started down the hall.

Nash and Joe where stopped dead in their tracks as they entered the SIU, blocked by a large group of kids wearing backpacks. Nash looked at Joe and laughed. "What is this? An elementary school on water? Do you know anything about this?" 

Joe shook his head. "No." 

They made their way through the kids. Nash spotted a woman who looked to be in charge of the group. "Um, excuse me." 

She turned. "Yes?" 

"Hi. Captain Nash Bridges. May I ask what all these kids are doing here?" 

"I beg your pardon?" 

Nash turned, gesturing at the kids. They looked packed in like cattle. "You see all these kids? Right here? What are they doing on board?" 

"Oh. We're on our field trip." 

"Field trip?" 

"Uh-hu," she said, and her smiled faded. "Well, you approved it, didn't you? The school told me that clearance had been given by, oh, what was his name? Um . . ." She quickly flipped through her papers. "They said clearance was given by . . . Oh. Deputy Chief Max Pettit." 

"Oh man." Nash looked down, rubbing his eyes. "Oh man." 

"This isn't a problem, is it?" 

He looked up, half-laughing. "Uh, it actually kind of is. You see, I was never told about this, and Chief Pettit, well . . . he has a sort of problem." 

"What kind of problem?" 

"He doesn't like me. So he tends to do things he knows will aggravate me." 

"I see. Well, we could leave and reschedule if you'd like." 

"No, no, that's okay. I think we can still make this work out." Nash turned. "Joe, why don't you take the little ones and Miss . . . ?" 

"Oh, Susan McBride." 

"Nice to meet you, Susan. Joe, take the kids and Miss. McBride here and give them an informative tour of the place." 

"What?" 

"Well, Harvey and Antwon aren't here, and Rachel's not in yet." 

"Why don't you do it?" 

Nash laughed. "Because I'm busy running this floating playground, that's why. Don't worry, just be cool. Tell 'em how you shot a bad guy or something. Kid's love that stuff." He gave Joe a slap on the shoulder. "Don't worry. Just relax." 

Joe gave in with a sigh. "Okay," he said, and walked toward the kids. 

Nash shook hands with Susan. "Have a nice time, and if there's anything I can do for you, don't hesitate to ask." 

"Thank you so much, Captain Bridges." 

"My pleasure," he said, and added quietly as he walked off, "You're a dead man, Max."

Antwon was standing at the copy machine as Harvey approached. "You play baseball?" 

Antwon looked at him. "Excuse me?" 

"Baseball. You play it?" 

"Not since I was a kid. Why?" 

"We need some extra players for the big game tomorrow night. Some of them had to cancel at the last minute." 

"The big game?" 

"Yeah. You didn't hear about it?" 

"No." 

"Ah, man. We play every year. The SIU against the Tenderloin District. Man, they've beaten us straight for the past five years, and tonight we're determined to take the top. You up for it?" 

"Yeah, sure. Anything that gives me the chance to whack opponents with a baseball bat." 

Harvey laughed. "Details are forthcoming," he said, giving his partner a slap on the back as he walked off.

A short time later, Nash was gathered in his office with Joe and Harvey. "What do you got, Harv?" 

"Get this, boss. Back in 1999, Richard Murphy was married." 

"Let me guess," Joe said. "To another prisoner named Rocco?" 

They all laughed. "Uh, not exactly. Seems he's developed a few fans over the years, and in 1999, he married one of them over the Internet." 

"Over the Internet?" Joe asked. 

Harvey nodded. "Some website where they do Internet marriages or something like that. Doesn't anybody have them in a big chapel with friends and family anymore? Anyway, they had an on-line preacher and everything. It was quick, over in less than ten minutes." 

"Do we know this fan's name?" Nash asked. 

Harvey tore a sheet off his notepad pad and handed it to him. "Amanda Grant." 

"Great," Nash said. "Joe, let's check her out." 

They stood to leave just as Nash's phone started ringing. "I'll meet you at the Cuda," he said, and answered as they left. "Captain Bridges, SIU. Well, good morning, Rachel. You know, if you get here within the next five minutes, you'll only be ten minutes late to work. What?" He laughed. "You're kidding. A flat tire, hu? Well, well. Did you call a tow truck? Oh. Oh, it was the spare tire that went flat. Oh, it was _on_ the car. So--so, let me see if I got this straight. You put the spare tire on the car and then continued to drive around on it? Oh, I see, I see. Yeah, I get distracted by things too, but I usually remember that spare tires aren't made for a long time of driving. Where are you? That's on our way. Joe and I are heading over to question someone about a murder this morning. We'll pick you up. Okay, bye." 

He hung up and walked toward the stairs with a laugh. "Spare tire. Ha."

"So, how long was the spare tire on?" Nash asked. 

Rachel McCabe sat in the backseat of the Cuda. "Two weeks, about," she said, almost embarrassed. 

"Two weeks?" Joe seemed shocked. "Man, I didn't know those things lasted that long." 

Nash held a hand up. "Me neither. I'm surprised it didn't go out a week ago." 

"I always hated spare tires, man," Joe said. "You put one on your car and it looks like one wheel's a 10-speed tire or something." 

Nash laughed. 

"So, where we going?" Rachel asked. 

"To see Amanda Grant. There was a murder this morning at SF Memorial. A prisoner from San Quentin was in for surgery. He killed a guard on duty and escaped." 

"How's this Amanda connected?" 

"She married him over the Internet in 1999," Joe said. 

"Marriages over the Internet? What happened to white chapels? Who was this guy?" 

Nash said nothing, just stared straight ahead. Joe glanced at his partner to see if he was going to say anything, and when he didn't, he said, "His name's Richard Murphy." He gave his partner another glance, but he was fixed on the road ahead. 

Looking at his eyes in the rearview mirror, Rachel would have said Nash almost looked . . . nervous.

Within fifteen minutes, they pulled up to the curb of Amanda Grant's house. They climbed out of the car and walked up the marble path to the front door. Nash knocked on the door. It opened just a few inches, and a woman looked out over the gold security chain. "Yes? What is it?" 

"Amanda Grant?" 

"Yes." 

Nash showed her his badge. "Captain Bridges, SFPD," he said, then gestured back at the others. "These are Inspectors Dominquez and McCabe. We'd like to talk to you about Richard Murphy." 

She seemed to suddenly become nervous, and she stood upright. "Just a minute." The door shut and opened up again, this time all the way. They started forward, but she put a hand up. "Not all of you," she said, and pointed at Nash. "Just you." 

He glanced back at the others. Joe motioned that they'd wait, and he turned and went inside. She shut the door as soon as he was in. "Ms. Grant--" 

"Mrs. Murphy," she corrected him, then walked back to the kitchen. 

He followed. "Mrs. Murphy, were you aware that Richard was at San Francisco Memorial?" 

"Yes." She returned to sorting away groceries. "He had his appendix removed the other day. We talked about it." 

"Talked about it?" 

"Over the computer. He's allowed an hour every night to use the Internet, so we use that time to chat." 

"Are you aware he escaped this morning?" 

She turned from the cabinet and looked at him. "What?" 

"He escaped this morning. Killed a police guard in the process." 

"How did he escape? He wouldn't have been able to move around very much because of the surgery, would he?" 

"Well, we think he might have had help getting out. You didn't help him escape by any chance, did you?" 

She looked at him sharply. "Certainly not," she claimed. "I could never work up the nerve to help a prison inmate escape." 

"Has he contacted you since this morning? Phone? E-mail?" 

She shook her head. "No. I haven't had any contact with him since the night before the surgery. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Bridges, I have other things I have to take care of today." 

Nash took a card from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "If he tries to contact you in anyway, you call me. Okay?" 

"Of course," she said. 

"Thank you. Have a nice day, ma'am."

Joe and Rachel were waiting in the Cuda. "Did Nash seem a little nervous when I asked who the guy was?" 

Joe said quietly, "It's quite a bad memory for Nash. When Nash started getting close to catching him, Murphy started toying with him. He kidnapped Cassidy and nearly killed her. It was all Nash could do to keep from killing the guy when he finally caught him." 

"Oh my God. I'd never heard about that." 

"Well, Nash kept it secret. For Cassidy's sake. Only him, her, me, and Harv knew about it." 

"What about Cassidy's mom? Lisa?" 

Joe shook his head. "Thankfully, she was out of town when it happened. Nash knew it was best not to tell her especially. Murphy tried to use it against Nash at his trial, trying to get him worked up. The media and everyone else just thought Murphy was trying to play head games or something. No one knew because Nash did such a good keeping it under wraps." 

"Keeping what under wraps?" Nash asked, walking back from the house. 

"Uh, nothing, Nashman," Joe said as his partner climbed behind the wheel. "Just telling Rachel what a good job you've done keeping my double life as a covert CIA agent under wraps." 

Rachel laughed as Nash fired up the Cuda and pulled away.

****

ACT 2 

Nash came out of his bedroom the next morning with his shoulder-holster on. His dad was in the kitchen, pouring a glass of orange juice. Nash tossed his coat over the back of a chair. "Morning, Nick." 

"Hi, son," Nick said in that gravelly voice. "OJ?" 

"Sure." Nick filled another glass and handed it to him. "Thanks. So, what do you got planned for the day?" 

Nick took his glass and sat down at the counter to eat his breakfast. "Oh, not much. The guys were supposed to come over for some poker, but they had to cancel, so I guess I'll just watch TV or something." 

They heard a loud sneeze and turned. The door to one of the other bedrooms opened, and Cassidy came out in a robe. Nash laughed. "I thought the whole building was gonna come down with that one, kid." 

Cassidy just smiled, not feeling the strength to laugh. She'd been sick for the past two days, and it seemed to be at it's heaviest right now. Her hair was a mess, and she looked a little puffy around the eyes. She had a wad of Kleenex in one hand for her runny nose. "Good morning, daddy," she said with a slightly-hoarse voice. "Morning, Grandpa." 

He smiled. "Hi, sweetheart." 

Nash set his glass down. "What do you say we take a long drive down the coast, with the wind whipping in our hair and face, and I'll take the curves at eighty miles-an-hour." 

She just looked at him as she walked to one of the cabinets. "I don't think so," she said, and gave a weak smile. 

"You feeling better?" 

"Worse." She took a bottle of medicine from the cabinet and tried to read the tiny words on the side. 

Nash walked over and read them for her. "Nah. Here, try these." He put them back and took another bottle out, quickly read the side, and said, "These'll do. Take two and call me in the morning." 

"Thanks, dad." She took the bottle and shuffled back to her room. 

When her door closed, Nash turned to Nick. "Check up on her every once in a while today." 

"Will do, son." 

The phone rang. Nash walked over and grabbed the cordless from the charger. "Nash. Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes." He hung up and walked back to get his coat. "Gotta go, Nick. Duty calls. Don't get into any trouble today, okay?" 

"I'll try not too, son." 

Nash had to laugh as he headed toward the elevator.

Rachel was talking with a uniformed officer when Nash pulled up at the end of the driveway. He climbed out and gestured at her car parked at the curb. "Found another spare I see?" 

She gave a mock laugh. "Very funny." 

They walked toward the house. "What do we got?" 

"Victim's name is Gregory Stewart," she explained. Nash recognized the name instantly. "Age 51, lawyer, married; wife and kid are out of town for the week." 

"Murphy's defense attorney during his trial," he said as they stepped inside. 

Joe, in the living room, heard Nash and said, "Think he's on a revenge spree?" 

"I'd say so," Nash said, glancing around. "Stewart couldn't prevent him from getting life in prison, despite having a pretty convincing defense. Murphy said some pretty harsh things to Stewart after he was convicted." 

"How harsh?" Rachel asked. 

Nash shook his head. "I wouldn't feel comfortable repeating them." He gestured around the room. "Anything else, Rachel?" 

"No, nothing. No missing jewelry or money. Still had his wallet and watch on." 

Stewart's covered body was on the floor of the living room. Nash looked through a few items on the desk, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Who found the body?" 

"Guy next door," Rachel said. 

"Nashman," Joe called. He walked over, holding a newspaper. "Check this out." 

He handed Nash the paper. On the front page, near the bottom, was the beginning of an article on a judge named Nicolas Webster. The name was circled in red ink. Nash looked at the others. "The judge who presided over Murphy's trial." 

"Think he's next?" Rachel asked. 

"He may already be," he replied, and they were on his heels as he moved for the door. "Joe, call Harvey and Antwon and have 'em meet us there."

Nash and Joe in the Cuda and Rachel in her car pulled into the driveway of the judge's home seconds before Harvey's PT Crusier braked at the curb. He and Antwon climbed out. They hurried toward the house with guns drawn. Nash leapt up the steps and knocked on the door. "Judge Webster?" he called. "It's Nash Bridges. You home? Nicolas?" No answer. He came down the steps. 

Harvey came back from around the side. "Boss, there's a broken window down the side here." 

They moved alongside the house to where the window was busted out. Nash wasted no time holstering his gun and climbing through into the kitchen. Back on his feet, he drew his weapon and took off as the others started in. They spread out and searched room after room in the large, two-story house. Antwon was moving down a hall when he spotted something through the crack of an ajar door. He stepped back and eased the door open with his foot, gun held high. What he saw shocked him. "Nash!" he yelled back down the hall. "Up here!" 

Nash came running. "What is it?" Antwon just gestured into the room with his head, looking away. Nash stepped in, lowering his gun. The others arrived and came in behind him, and their guns dropped to their sides. "Damn it," Nash said quietly. 

They were in the bathroom, and in the overflowing bathtub was the floating body of Judge Nicolas Webster. They holstered their weapons as they returned to the hall. "How many more possible victims could their be?" Rachel asked. 

Nash thought for a moment, then suddenly remembered. "The person who convinced the jury to convict him. The D.A."

District Attorney Sandra Watson exited the building where her office was located and came out to the sidewalk, heading for the large parking structure across the street. She was 36, tall, with long brunette hair, and was dressed in the usual professional business suit: white buttoned shirt under a gray jacket and a matching knee-length skirt. She stopped at the corner and pressed the walk signal button. 

Almost as soon as her finger left the button, a large yellow car pulled to a stop at the corner before her. Nash was driving by himself. "Well, well, well," she said with a smile. "Nash Bridges." 

He returned the smile. "Hi, Sandra." 

"Been a long time. What can I do for you, Nash." 

"Remember Richard Murphy?" 

"How could I forget. Put him away for life." 

"Well, apparently not," Nash said. "He escaped this morning." 

"What?" He saw the look of surprise on her face. She walked to the car. "How?" 

"He was at SF Memorial for a kidney transplant, and he escaped after the surgery. We think he might've had help. You should let me bring you to the station. You'll be safer there." 

"I don't think so, Nash," she said. "I can handle myself on my own." She started to turn. 

"Well, he's already killed Greg Stewart and Judge Webster. You could be next, Sandra." 

She looked at him for a moment, then opened the passenger door and climbed in.

Sitting at the table usually reserved for interrogations, Nash said, "He wasted no time in killing Gregory Stewart or Nicolas Webster. The report from the coroner's office said both were killed early this morning. Stewart between four and five A.M., and Webster between five and six." 

"We've established that his motive is clearly revenge," Joe said, sitting beside Nash. 

"Yeah, and you and I are the only ones left that he would go after," Nash added. 

"What makes you think so?" she asked, not wanting to admit she knew he was right. 

"Well, you convinced the jury of his guilt with rock-solid evidence, and I was the one who caught him. Not to mention it was my testimony that helped secure his sentence. I think it's pretty obvious why he would come after us." 

It was clear for them to tell she was getting scared now. "Glad I decided to come in with you," she said half-jokingly, trying to lighten the situation. 

Nash's cell-phone started ringing. "Excuse me." He got up and answered, stepping over to the large opening that looked out at the bay. "Nash," he said. "Hey, Cassidy. What's up?" 

"I'm feeling really worse," she said. "I've been throwing up and now my head is starting to hurt. I think I need to go to the doctor's office. Do you think you could take me really quick?" 

"Uh, I don't know. We're right in the thick of things here. Um, do you want me to call a taxi for you?" 

"No, I don't want a taxi." 

"How about Jessica?" 

"She's gone for the day with her dad." 

"Um, okay. Okay, just stay put and I'll--" 

"Hang on." 

"What is it? Cassidy?" 

Joe watched on. 

"I thought I heard something." A moment of silence, then: "Guess it's nothing. Must just be this flu. I thought--Grandpa, watch out!" 

He heard her scream. "Cassidy?" he yelled. The phone hit the floor. "Cassidy!" Her screams were receding. "Joe, come on." 

"What about me?" Sandra asked as they hurried off. 

Nash said without looking back, "You stay here. Don't go anywhere."

They descended the steps into Nash's apartment with guns drawn. "Cassidy?" He gestured toward the bedrooms, and Joe went to check them. "Cassidy." 

He heard a groan and stopped, lifting his gun. He saw something move behind the kitchen counter. He hurried forward and saw what it was. "Dad!" He ran forward, holstering his gun, and helped his father to his feet. 

"Oh, son." He leaned back against the counter, holding a hand to his head. 

Joe came back from the bedrooms. "Nothing, Nashman." 

"Let me see, dad." He moved Nick's hand away and saw a bruise on his forehead. "Oh, it's not that bad, thank God. Joe, there's an icepack in the freezer. Grab it and a dish towel. I'll call the others." 

A short time later, Joe found Nash standing on the balcony, looking out at the city. "We're gonna find her, Nash," he said quietly. His partner didn't respond. 

Rachel came out onto the balcony behind them as his cell-phone rang. "Nash." 

He answered. "Nash." 

"Boss," Harvey said, "are you on the balcony by any chance?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

He heard Harvey laugh. "Step to the side and look down." 

Nash did so. The others did the same. On a small ledge below the balcony, they could see a grappling hook with a long length of black rope. Below that, they could see Harvey down on the street among several black-and-whites, their siren lights flashing, and officers holding back the small group of on-lookers that had gathered. 

"He climbed up?" Rachel asked. 

Joe scoffed. "The guy just had a kidney transplant. How could he be scaling buildings so soon?" 

Nash shook his head. "You got me, but this is Richard Murphy we're talking about. Nothing's unbelievable when this guy's involved. Thanks, Harv," he said into the phone and hung up. 

Antwon stepped out behind them. "Nash, I talked to some people down on the street. A couple of them said they saw someone on the balcony. Didn't see anyone climbing up, but they definitely saw someone out here." 

"Could it have been Nick?" Rachel asked. 

"Him and Cassidy where inside all day." He stood in silence for a moment, then turned back inside. "Son of a bitch."

The room was mostly dark, partially lit by light coming from an unseen source. The room was occupied by only one person, Cassidy. She was in a chair, her hands tied behind the back, and a strip of duct tape over her mouth. Tears dotted her cheeks. A shadow flickered over the wall behind her, and suddenly, Richard Murphy appeared and kneeled before her. 

"Bet you thought you'd never see me again, hu?" He smiled. "It's been a long time. You've really grown since I last abducted you. But don't worry, my little princess," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "It will all be over soon." He leaned closer to her until his face was inches away. "Very soon." 

She held his glare, refusing to be intimidated. For a moment, she thought he was going to do something, but he simply stood with a laugh and walked away.

****

ACT 3 

"No," Nash said as he came up the stairs to his office. Sandra was on his heels. "You're not going home. It's too dangerous with Murphy out." He reached his office and turned, adding quietly, "He's already got Cassidy. I'm not going to let him take someone else." 

"Nash, I'm sorry about what happened. I really am. But I can't stay here forever. I have to go home eventually, and I'd rather go home now. Right now." 

Nash sat in his chair. "I said no, Sandra," he repeated. "It's just too dangerous." 

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You know, I haven't done anything illegal, so you can't keep me here." 

"I could fake an indecent exposure report," he said, flipping through some papers. 

She rolled her eyes, glancing around, trying to think of what to do. "Okay," she said. "Okay, how about this?" He leaned back, listening. "You let me go home, and I'll agree to let a uniformed team stay outside and watch over me. Deal?" 

Nash hesitated, then gave in with a sigh. "Okay. But I'm driving you home." 

She held up her hands. "Fine." 

Nash got up, and they walked off. 

Joe was standing at his desk with a clipboard in hand. Harvey, Rachel, and Antwon were with him. Nash passed by. "Joe, I'll be back. I'm taking Sandra home. Call if anything breaks." 

"Will do, Nashman." Joe turned back to his papers. "Okay, Antwon. What do you want?" 

"First." 

"Uh, sorry. Nash's got that spot. Always has, always will." 

"Okay, second." 

"No, I want second," Rachel said. 

"Why should you get second?" Antwon asked. 

"Did you ever play professionally when you were a kid?" 

"A year or two." 

"That's what I thought. Joe, I'll take second." 

"Okay." He started to write. 

"Wait a minute, Joe," Antwon said, then looked at Rachel. "What's that mean, 'That's what I thought.'" 

"I played baseball for six years when I was a little girl, and I always had second base. I'm the perfect choice for it. Did you ever play higher than Little League?" 

Antwon seemed embarrassed. "No," he said quietly. "In fact, I never even made it to Little League." 

"What'd you play?" Harvey asked. 

"Pee-wee. One year." The others laughed. "Hey, it was a long time ago. But I still played for fun for awhile." 

"Well, playing for fun is different from playing for real," Joe said. "Rachel, you've got second." 

She pumped her fist in the air. "Yes," she said, then looked at Antwon. "Sorry about that." 

Joe went over the text on the paper. "So, Antwon, I'll put you at . . . Short Stop. That okay?" 

"Yeah, that's fine." He sounded disappointed. He glanced at Rachel. "Still think I should be second." 

"Well, let's see how you play first, little Mister Pee-Wee." 

Antwon just moaned and walked off with Rachel following teasing him. Harvey was laughing. "Harvey, you want third?" 

"You kidding me? I want the pitcher's place." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah. We've lost the last five years in a row because of Zutarski. It's my turn to take the mound so we can make the other team take some strikes for a change." 

"Okay," Joe said, and penciled it in. "So I guess that means I've got third. Okay, we're all set. Tonight we'll be kicking the loin out of Tenderloin." 

"Awright," Harvey said, and slapped Joe a high-five.

Nash pulled into the driveway of Sandra Watson's house. The black-and-white cop car behind them pulled up alongside the curb. Nash and Sandra got out and walked up to the front door. He waited on the steps while she unlocked the door. "Do you want to come in for awhile?" she asked. 

"Thanks, but I gotta get back to the station incase we get word. If you need anything, though, call me right away. Okay?" 

She nodded. "Sure. Good night." 

"Good night." He was turning as she shut the door when his cell-phone rang. He took it out and answered as he walked back to the driveway. "Nash," he said. 

"Nashman," Harvey said. 

"What's up?" 

"I just talked with forensics," he said. "They found a print at the judge's house. It belongs to one Bruce Dowell, and we got his address. It's an apartment complex at 416 Baker Avenue, apartment D9. Joe and I are en route." 

"Okay, I'll be there." He turned the phone off and hurried to his car.

Harvey pulled up outside the complex just seconds before Nash did. As he climbed out with Harvey, Joe asked, "How'd things go with Ms. Watson?" 

"Fine. I'm hoping she uses her head and stays at home until this is finished." 

They walked inside and climbed the steps to the fourth floor. They moved down the hall, searching the doors, trying to see the numbers hidden behind thick dust and rust. Up ahead, a man was coming down the opposite way, stopping to unlock a door. "Excuse me," Nash said. "Are you Bruce Dowell?" 

The man stepped back. He looked nervous. "Who wants to know?" 

Nash held up his badge as they started forward. "Captain Bridges, SFPD. I'd like to ask--" 

Bruce Dowell bolted down the hall in a flash. Nash threw up his hands and turned to the others. "You know what I can never figure out?" 

Harvey smiled. "What's that, boss?" 

"Why the bad guys always run up. Don't they know they have to come down eventually?" 

Joe looked at his watch. "How much of a head start shall we give him?" 

Nash made a dismissive wave. "Ah, hell. He's had long enough." 

"I'll meet you downstairs," Joe said, and started back at a leisurely pace as Nash and Harvey walked down the hall. 

Dowell moved quick, throwing open the door to the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time. He shoved a man aside, making him almost lose his balance and fall into the wall. Nash and Harvey came in moments later. Nash stopped and flashed the man his badge. The guy pointed up the stairs, and he and Harvey continued. 

Dowell was three flights up. Nash leaned over the rail and looked. He could see the fleeing suspect. He looked back at Harvey and laughed. "You know, Harv, it doesn't make much sense for both of us to waste our breath. Why don't you go on back down." 

"Whatever you say," Harvey said with a smile and left. 

Nash continued up the steps. "Bruce," he called. "Oh, Bruce. Where do you think you're going?" 

At the top of the stairs, Dowell threw open the roof access door. Nash reached it moments later and stepped out cautiously with his gun drawn. He peeked around the corner. Dowell was hurrying across the roof for the far edge, shoes crunching gravel. Nash followed at his own pace. He reached the roof and started down the fire-escape. Nash jogged forward and looked over the edge, saw Dowell already on the first landing. He started down after him. 

His feet clattering on the steel steps, Dowell descended as fast as he could. Nash was only a couple landings up, looking in no hurry at all. Dowell reached the last level and hit the release for the final ladder. He waited impatiently as it lowered down with a racket, glancing back up at Nash, who was almost upon him. The ladder was fully extended within a few seconds, and he quickly climbed down. 

He reached the end of the ladder and dropped the remaining few feet. When he regained his footing, he saw he was standing right in front of Joe, who was sitting back against the fender of the Cuda. He lifted a hand, and a pair of handcuffs dangled from his finger. "Do you like this new SFPD-style jewelry that's going around?" he asked. Dowell's shoulders sagged, knowing he'd been caught. Joe moved around and cuffed him. 

"Just a minute, Joe." Nash climbed off the bottom ladder and walked over. "I want to ask this guy something." Nash stepped around Dowell. "Why did you run up?" 

He seemed to be thinking for a moment, then said, "I don't know." 

Nash turned away laughing. "See, Joe? Even they don't know. It's like a genetic thing with these bad guys. Okay, get him out of here." 

Joe led Dowell away as Nash walked around the Cuda, still laughing.

Within moments, Dowell was sitting at the interrogation table in the SIU, along with Nash and Joe, who sat back as he flipped through the suspect's file. "Why were your fingerprints found at the judge's house?" Nash asked, but got no response. "Where's my daughter?" Again, no answer. 

"You know, pal," Joe said, leaning forward, "we pulled your file. We've got you on numerous other wants for burglary, grand theft, arson, and attempted murder. Either way you play this, your butt's in trouble big time." 

Dowell looked between the two nervously, then sighed, giving in. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I helped Richard Murphy escape from the hospital." 

"Why?" Nash asked. 

"When he first started making headlines all those years ago, I knew--I knew this guy was a brilliant one. You don't get brilliance much anymore with the psychos of today. But this guy . . . man, was he brilliant. Killed all his victims in a completely different way to throw off the suggestion of a serial killer? Brilliant. Use a different weapon each time? Brilliant. Pick victims that had no connection whatsoever to one another? Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant." 

Joe leaned back in his chair. "What happened after you helped him escape?" 

"I took him to a place he told me he often went to be alone," Dowell said. "He was still weak, recovering from the surgery and all. He wasn't in any condition to kill the people he wanted to kill. So I, I did it for him." 

"How did he contact you?" Nash asked. 

"He didn't. He only talked to Amanda Grant. He asked her to help him escape, but she couldn't work up the nerve to do it. So she asked me to. I met her at one of our meetings." 

"Meetings?" 

"Fans of Inmates. It's a group that sponsors prisoners. We bring them books, movies; sometimes we just visit and talk. We have weekly meetings. Anyway, I set everything up with her, and she got the time and location from him and passed them on to me. Of course, as a result of all that, I was also supposed to kill her as well. And Sandra Watson." He looked at Nash. "And you." 

"Where's my daughter?" Nash asked again. 

"I don't know," he said. 

Nash pointed a finger at him. "Don't even think about denying it. I--" 

"I'm serious, man. I don't know. It wasn't me. I didn't take her. It had to be Richard. Yeah, I was supposed to go there to get you for him, but he changed his mind at the last minute. Said he was feeling strong again and wanted you personally, so he went instead. Guess you weren't there so he grabbed your daughter instead." 

"Do you know where he might have taken her?" 

Dowell shook his head. "No. Honestly. That's the truth. I have no idea." 

Nash glared at him for a moment. "If I find out you knew, you won't like what happens." He stood. "Ronnie. Take this bozo and show him his new digs." 

Officer Ronnie stepped forward and escorted Dowell toward the back of the SIU as Nash headed for the stairs with Joe. "Talk about a psycho," he said. "Weekly meetings for fans of prison inmates?" 

Joe shook his head. "Can't people be fans of sports anymore?"

Nash was standing looking out at the Bay Bridge when he happened to look over and see Deputy Chief Max Pettit walking toward him grinning. "Hello, Nash." 

"Don't start with me, dimwit. I'm not in the mood." He headed back to the stairs. 

"Nash, Nash, Nash," Pettit said, following him up the steps. "So, how did the field trip go?" 

"You know, Max, you've got some nerve doing something like that. Not that I don't mind a group of loud, crazy kids running around under my feet from time to time, but to not tell me about it beforehand--that's just wrong." 

They reached Nash's office in the uppermost corner of the SIU. "Sorry, about that, Nash. I thought you had okayed it." 

Nash turned, almost laughing. "Why are you even hear? Shouldn't you be off kissing the mayor's butt or something?" 

"Actually, I'm here on official police business, Nash. It seems that Mrs. Susan McBride and her children had such an enjoyable and educational visit aboard the _S.S. Mino_ that they've inquired about you giving a special appearance at their school next week to talk about law enforcement." 

"Really? Well, that's great." He started to take his seat, but turned back. "Um, why are you telling me good news? You usually come around just to get my blood pressure up." 

"As much pleasure as it'll bring you, Nash, I was asked by Mrs. McBride to pass the inquiry onto you personally." 

Nash sat at his desk and sorted out some papers. "Any particular reason she asked you to do it?" 

"Well, she said she couldn't get in touch with you." He paused, as if there was something else he was avoiding, then added, "She also said that after the jerk I was for not telling about the scheduled field trip, that it would be justified that I deliver the news the school wants to see you. Instead of me." 

Nash looked up. "Instead of you?" 

"Apparently, they've been planning to have a law enforcement officer speak at their school for sometime, and my name had been at the top of the list since the beginning. But Mrs. McBride said it was my selfless and idiotic self that made her nominate you as the special guest speaker, and the rest of the school people agreed." 

Nash laughed out loud. "Well, good for her. Some teachers are bright." He was still laughing. "Oh, this is just too good. Well, thank you, Max, for delivering the good news, and I'll personally inform Mrs. McBride that I will give that special appearance. In the meantime, you can go back to your paper-pushing." 

Max smiled and gave a sarcastic nod. "Good luck in the game tonight, Nash. Wish I could make it as umpire to give you a fair advantage." 

"Ha." Nash pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "Am-scray." Max put his hat on and left Nash smiling. "What a clown." 

"Nashman." He looked up to see Joe rushing toward him. "Amanda Grant's on the move." 

"What?" 

"Phone tap picked up a call between her and Murphy. She's on her way to meet him." 

"Do we know where?" 

"Yeah, come on. I'll tell you on the way." 

Nash practically jumped out of his chair and followed after Joe.

****

ACT 4 

Nash drove fast, the engine of the Cuda howling. The red-and-blue light in the dash was flashing, but the sirens were off. They needed all the advantage they could get in taking Murphy by surprise. Harvey, Antwon, and Rachel were following in Harvey's PT Cruiser. The direction Joe had given took them to a large warehouse along the waterfront. Nash slowed and pulled up alongside a dumpster, concealing themselves from view of Warehouse 8, where Murphy had told Amanda to go over the phone. 

"Okay. What do we do know, partner?" Joe asked. 

"We go in nice and quiet. Chances are Cassidy's in there. If we're spotted or he senses us, he might . . ." 

"Don't think about that." 

"We do it smooth and by the numbers." 

They climbed out as the others arrived behind them. They took up position against the dumpster. "What's the plan, boss?" Harvey asked. 

"Like I told Joe. Smooth and by the numbers. Go." 

They made their way toward the warehouse with guns drawn, stopping for cover every few yards to make sure the coast was clear before proceeding. When they finally got to within twenty feet of the building, Nash said, "We go through that door there." He pointed. A door in the side of the building was ajar, held open by a wooden crate. 

They ran for the warehouse and hurried in one by one. Once inside, they split up and started the search. Nash thought he heard voices as he moved down the hall. He lightened his steps as he neared a door. He eased it open and looked it, but saw nothing. The room was dark. He went in and saw another door, outlined with light coming from the next room. Slowly opening that door, Nash saw he was in a large open area full of wooden shipping crates and other junk. The voices sounded like they were coming from the same room. 

He stepped inside and pushed the door up behind him, then moved through the maze of boxes. The voices grew louder and louder until he finally spotted them. Peering around the corner of a stack of crates, he spotted Murphy and Amanda. They were talking quietly among themselves. She looked like she was crying, and he was comforting her, his hands on her shoulders. 

Nash also spotted Cassidy. She was strapped to a wooden carving table, duct tape over her mouth. He wanted to charge Murphy and take him down, but he knew doing so would put his daughter at great risk, so he had to fight back the urge. He turned away, his back against the crate, trying to think of what to do. And calling for the others was out of the question. 

He was still thinking when he suddenly heard Amanda yell out, "No!" He peered around the crate. Cassidy, too, had her head turned to see what she was yelling about. "No," she repeated. "You can't." 

"But honey, there's no other way," Murphy told her. "It's the only way for us to be together." 

"No. I won't let you kill her." Amanda moved for the table and tried to take off the first of the three straps holding Cassidy down, but Murphy grabbed her arm and violently pulled her away. 

"And I won't let you do that," Murphy said. The anger was showing in his voice and face. "This is the only way. They have to pay for what they did. They all have to pay." 

"What's happened to you?" she asked. "You were always so calm and polite over the computer." 

"That was just a cover," he said. "Couldn't you tell? You really think a serial killer would act the way I did when we chatted? I was warming you up so you could help me escape when I got to the hospital. But of course, you had to chicken out and get someone else to do if for you. You're no wife of mine." 

"Richard, don't say that. We can still work this out. You don't have to kill them for us to be together." 

Murphy exploded with anger. "Yes! I do!" Nash felt the need to charge approaching, but held it back as best he could. He hoped the others had heard the shouting and were on their way. Murphy was stalking in circles, the anger building, his voice growing louder and louder as he screamed about needing justice. 

Amanda continued to plead with him. "Please, Richard. Don't do this," she begged. "If you do, then you can forget about us. Because if you kill this young girl and those other two, we're finished." 

"I've already decided we're finished," he said, and shot her. Amanda screamed out, falling back to the floor. Cassidy turned away, crying. "Consider us divorced." 

Nash stepped out from behind the crates, gun aimed. "Drop it, Murphy!" 

Murphy spun with his gun up and laughed. "Well, well, well," he said. "If it isn't the esteemed Inspector Nash Bridges. Oh, that's right. Captain, now. The man whose arrest and testimony helped put me away for life. For life!" 

"Drop the gun, Richard." 

"You know, if it's any consolation, I was gonna kill you last because you were the best. Hell, I even thought I might convince you join me on my new spree." 

"Why didn't you offer it sooner?" Nash asked, stepping forward. "Afraid I'd say no?" 

Murphy shook his head. "Nah, if you'd have said no, I would have just killed you," he said. "I was afraid you'd say yes." 

Before Nash could react, Murphy fired. Nash ducked behind a stack of crates as the bullets splintered the edge. He fired around the corner. Murphy ran for cover, yelling as he took a bullet in the shoulder. He stumbled forward, firing random shots behind him to give him time. 

Nash looked around just in time to see him leaving through another door. As he ran for Cassidy, the others came running into the room. "You hit?" Rachel asked. 

"No, I'm fine." Nash laid his gun down on the table, and he and Joe quickly untied the straps that held Cassidy down. 

Antwon knelt and checked Amanda for a pulse. "She's dead," he said, standing. 

Nash helped Cassidy off the table and pulled the tape from her mouth. She put her arms around him. "Daddy," she gasped, crying. "I was so scared." 

"It's okay, it's okay," he said, pulling her away. "I have to go after him. Joe, you and the others take her outside and call an ambulance." Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his gun and ran for the door Murphy had left through. 

"Nash!" Joe shouted. "Nash!" 

Nash threw the door open and disappeared into the hall. 

"Should we follow?" Rachel asked. 

Joe shook his head. "No. Let Nash do this on his own," he said, and walked Cassidy away.

Nash stopped as he exited the back of the warehouse. A blood trail was at his feet, running out toward the water. He moved forward, the gravel crunching under his shoes. He came over the final rise and looked around. Down on the other side were a series of piers with boats anchored to them. He saw movement at one and slowly made his way toward it. 

Murphy untied the ropes holding the boat to the pier and jumped in, trying to find some way to start the engine. Nash came down the dock, gun raised. "Hold it right there, Murphy," he said calmly. "Don't try anything. Get off the boat." 

Murphy stood still, hunched over the controls. He looked at Nash and smiled. "How strange that we both have two stand-offs with each other, hu? To be honest, I never thought it would happen again." 

"Get off the boat," Nash repeated. 

Murphy stared at him for a moment, then whipped his gun up, but he wasn't quick enough this time. Nash fired a single shot. Murphy staggered back, the gun dropping for his hand. When Nash saw what was about to happen, he ran forward, but it was too late. Murphy, clutching the wound in his stomach, toppled over the side of the boat and splashed into the water. 

Joe came running down the dock, gun in hand. He stopped behind Nash. "What happened?" 

Nash lowered his gun, taking a deep breath. He exhaled as he looked out at the darkened bay. "It's over," he said.

"Hit this!" Harvey yelled, and let the ball fly.

The batter, a homicide detective from the Tenderloin district, swung and missed. "Strike three!" the umpire yelled. 

The SIU team on the field and in the stands cheered loudly. Nash was on first base, Rachel on second, Joe on third. Antwon looked bored at Short Stop. Harvey caught the ball from the pitcher and turned in place throwing it into his glove. Nick was sitting in the stands with Cassidy, both eating popcorn. "You sure you don't want to go home and rest?" he asked. 

"No, I'm fine, Grandpa. I'm feeling better." 

Next to them sat Inger, holding Lucia in her arms. Ula was beside her. She was out cold, leaning against Inger, snoring. 

The next batter came up to the plate and took a couple practice swings. Harvey stood ready, then threw the first pitch. The bat swung, and the ball went out to the left. The batter headed for first. Joe made a dive for the ball, but missed. Antwon ran forward and scooped the ball up with his glove, threw it to second. Rachel caught it and spun, throwing it to first. Nash seemed to put not effort whatsoever into his catch, and turned to touch the base just as the batter reached it. 

The first base umpire threw his arms out. "He's out!" 

Half the crowd in the stands cheered. The inning was over. The SIU came in from the field as the Tenderloin players poured out of their dugout to take up positions. 

"You're doing pretty good out there in Short Stop," Rachel said to Antwon as they approached the benches. 

"I gotta admit, you're pretty on second. Guess I was wrong." 

"Yes, you were." She laughed. 

"Harv, check it out," Nash said, pointing. 

Harvey looked. "Oh my God," he said, rolling his head. "I don't believe it." 

The pitcher for the Tenderloin was Jim Doherty, one of the most egotistical police detectives Harvey had ever known. He had once had the misfortune to have to work with him a couple years back, and he had regretted it ever since. Doherty was nothing but obnoxious, rude, and a raving ego-maniac. 

"Man, I'd love to charge that picture's mound with a bat." 

It was now the SIU's turn at bat. Nash was up first. "Go, Dad!" Cassidy yelled as he approached the plate. He took two practice swings, then lowered the bat pointed outfield, imitating the famous Babe Ruth gesture. Everyone laughed. He smiled. He smacked the first pitch out to far left and made for first. 

Nick was clearly excited. "Keep going, son!" 

Nash almost stopped at second, but when the outfielder overshot his aim and missed the second baseman, Nash kept going, but held up at third. 

"Way to go, Nashman!" Joe yelled. 

Antwon was up next. First pitch was a ball, second was a strike, third was a single that got him to first base and Nash to home. SIU cheered loudly, and Nash gave a playful bow to the crowd of friends, family, and colleagues. 

"He certainly has a way with a crowd," Rachel said. 

Joe smiled. "You have no idea." 

Nash came back into the dugout with a laugh. "Man, what a rush. Go get 'em, Rachel." 

She grabbed a bat and headed out to the plate. "Come on, Rachel!" Antwon shouted from first. 

Cassidy cupped her hands around her mouth. "You can do it, Rachel!" 

Doherty threw the ball, Rachel swung, and the SIU erupted with applause as the ball arched up into sky, sailing over the heads of the outfielders, disappearing into the night. 

"Home run!" Nash yelled in amazement. "Whoa, Rachel!" 

Antwon waited for her at first, where they slapped high-fives, then ran around the bases together. When they reached the dugout, everyone gave her a high-five. 

Joe was up to bat next, practice swinging. "Hit a homerun, Joe!" Inger shouted from the stands. "You can do it!" 

He blew her a kiss, and the SIU all exhaled a combined "Aaah." Joe just looked at them and said, "Aye, shut up," then turned back to the pitcher. 

Strike one. Joe heard Doherty snicker out on the pitcher's mound. "I hope you don't mind losing in front of your wife, Joe," he said. 

Joe mumbled something under his breath as he got ready for the next swing. 

Strike two. 

Joe adjusted his grip on the bat, concentrating. The ball flew toward him, and he swung. He heard the crowd cheer, and he realized he'd hit it. He dropped the bat and ran for first, rounding toward second and being waved into third. He started for home, but found himself in a pickle. The ball was tossed back and forth between the third baseman and the catcher. Joe kept stopping sharp and running fast, trying to stay ahead of the ball. 

"Come on, Joe!" Nash yelled. "You can make it!" 

The pitcher overthrew and missed the third baseman, and Joe bolted for home as the catcher ran ahead of him. He turned and stuck his glove out, catching the ball, and brought his glove down just as Joe slid into home and his fingers touched the plate. The glove touched his leg a split second later. 

"Safe!" the umpire yelled. 

SIU roared loudly. The Tenderloin booed. Joe got to his feet, a dark strip of dirt down the center of his clothes, and walked back. Harvey passed him on the way. "Way to go, Joe," he said, and picked up the bat from the ground. 

Joe was met in the dugout with cheers and slaps on the back. He spit dirt out of his mouth. Nash laughed. 

Harvey took the plate and did a few practice swings. Jim Doherty was smiling back at him, tossing the ball into his glove. "Hey, hey, Harvey," Jim said. "It's been a while." 

"Not long enough, Doughboy," Harvey said. 

"Ready to strike out again this year?" 

"We'll see about that," Harvey said, then pointed the bat at him. "More important, let's see if you've finally learned how to not throw like a girl in the last year, shall we? 

"Go, Harvey!" Rachel yelled. 

Jim threw. Harvey swung, but missed. "Ball one," the umpire said. 

Jim laughed. "Yeah, keeping laughing, jerko," Harvey said, practice swinging. "Maybe if I time it right, I can get the ball to go in your mouth like a miniature golf attraction." 

Nash was cheering him on when his cell-phone started ringing. He walked over to his bag and took it. "Nash. Uh-hu. You're sure?" Joe watched. Nash sighed. "Okay. Yeah, thanks." He turned it off and returned it to his bag. 

"Who was that?" Joe asked as he walked back. 

"They haven't found Murphy's body yet." 

"What?" Rachel said. 

"You shot him in the stomach, right?" Antwon asked. 

Nash nodded, looking back out at the game. Harvey swung again and missed. "Strike one!" 

Rachel said, "Don't worry, Nash. I'm sure they'll find him soon enough. It is pretty dark." 

Jim threw the ball. Harvey turned to avoid it, and it bounced across the back of his shoulders. The SIU crowd booed. Harvey did a little pain dance, turning in a circle. "Okay, it's go time," he said, and threw the bat down as he charged the pitcher's mound. 

Almost immediately, the SIU and the Tenderloin flooded the field as the fight began. The crowd was cheering. Nick stood and hollered, "Go SIU!" Cassidy and Inger were laughing. 

Joe shook his head, watching. "There's one every game," he said. 

Nash shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He laughed at the situation. "Let's go break them up." 

And they all headed out onto the field.


End file.
